Chapter 20: Qingxin
“Husband, what’s the matter with you?”
Qingyan asked knowingly, his expression filled with a sense of inquiry.
Qiu Henian didn’t answer, only staring at him.
After a while, he withdrew his gaze, slowly bent down, picked up the book that had fallen to the ground, and placed it meticulously on the round table beside the bed.
He smoothed out the creases on the cover carefully.
Qingyan knelt on the bed, neither urging nor speaking again, patiently waiting.
Sure enough, when the man looked at him again, his gaze had changed. It was no longer the deliberate calmness from before but seemed filled with a deep, aggressive, and dangerous intensity.
The man climbed onto the bed, sitting opposite Qingyan. His lips moved slightly, his voice extremely low and deep, with a husky undertone quite different from his usual tone.
He said, “Do you not want to live anymore?”
Qingyan looked at him.
This man was dangerous yet fascinating.
He swallowed and replied, “You don’t dare take risks, but I do.”
With this statement, silence fell between them, quietly staring at each other.
After a while, Qingyan moved.
He rose from his kneeling position, slowly crawling towards the man. When the man looked up at him, Qingyan blushed slightly, lifting his leg to straddle the man’s thigh underneath, feeling the muscles tense immediately beneath him.
His hands lightly rested on the man’s broad shoulders, his lips slightly trembling as he almost whispered, “Husband, is Qingyan good?”
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice even huskier, “Good.”
Qingyan’s originally fair cheeks blushed so deeply they could have dripped blood.
He bit his lip, whispering in the man’s ear, “Then, will you be gentle with Qingyan?”
Before the last word could fully leave his lips, Qingyan’s world turned upside down.
He was pressed down onto the bedding, the back of his head cradled by warm hands.
His back hit the thick mattress, not painful, but soon accompanied by the heavy, warm, and reassuring weight descending upon him.
His lips were captured by the man’s, teeth gently grazing against each other.
Qingyan let out a soft “mm” from the depths of his throat, obediently allowing himself to be taken, even feeling the intentions of the other party, he parted his lips…
This was Qingyan’s first truly meaningful kiss in his life. It hadn’t happened on his wedding night, and the last time on the mountain was just a gentle touch.
So, this was what a kiss tasted like…
Qingyan thought hazily and intoxicated.
A coolness spread across his chest as his underclothes were pulled aside.
Qingyan’s fair arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders and back, feeling the warm hand slide down his waist to his softest spot, giving it a hard squeeze.
Qingyan winced in pain, but still extended his other arm, attempting to embrace the man.
But at that moment, the weight lifted, and his hands groped empty space.
Qingyan was momentarily stunned, then quickly regained his senses. He reached out, but it was too late; the man had already left the bedding, striding quickly towards the door.
Qingyan sat blankly on the bed, staring at the tightly closed door, his heart pounding like a drum, not yet recovered.
After a while, he suddenly lay back on the bed, fingers touching his own cheeks and lips, chest rising and falling, experiencing the lingering sensation of tingling and numbness at the root of his tongue.
Only when his breathing returned to normal did he tidy up his underclothes, put on his shoes, and walked out of the inner room.
Passing through the outer room, he arrived at the door of another house. Without waiting to knock, Qingyan saw paper and a brush lying on the ground by the door, even the inkstone was there.
Puzzled, Qingyan crouched down and carefully examined it.
On the paper lay two large regular script characters: “Qingxin” (Clear Heart).
The ink of these two characters hadn’t completely dried yet, obviously freshly written.
More importantly, next to “Qingxin,” in the blank space, detailed instructions on the structure and strokes of these two characters were written in fine wolf-hair brushstrokes.
As Qingyan looked at it, the initial sense of frustration disappeared in an instant, and he couldn’t help but smile.
…
Early the next morning, before cooking breakfast, Qingyan had already prepared a large bowl of gruel.
Today was the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, and according to tradition, Spring Festival couplets had to be posted before the hour of the dragon (7-9 a.m.).
Qiu Henian stepped on a stool to put up the couplets, while Qingyan watched from below, occasionally adjusting the positions.
Next door, Mr. Chen Yu finally returned. At this moment, the two of them were also at the door posting couplets.
Zhang Wensheng’s appearance was not outstanding, but he exuded the aura of an intellectual, and his temperament was easy-going, giving people a comfortable feeling.
Seeing them come out, he took the initiative to greet them, even asking Mrs. Chen to fetch the sugar cubes he had brought back from the county town for them.
Mrs. Chen hesitated for a long time and didn’t go to fetch them.
Qingyan didn’t really intend to take them either, politely saying, “Thank you, but there’s sugar at home already. Mr. Zhang brought these all the way from town; we’ll enjoy them slowly.”
Zhang Wensheng had no choice with Mr. Chen but didn’t really get angry. He just gave Qingyan a slightly reproachful look.
After talking to the people, Qingyan subconsciously turned his head to look at Qiu Henian. Their gazes met squarely, and Qiu Henian’s eyes lingered on his lips.
Qingyan knew what he was looking at. He had only discovered it while combing his hair this morning—his lips had a small scab from being bitten last night.
Seeing him turn away, Qiu Henian withdrew his gaze, bowing his head to tidy up the stool he had stepped on.
Qingyan didn’t say anything more. He went to pick up the gruel, and the two of them went to Mrs. Li’s house next door to help her put up the couplets.
Mrs. Li had already made breakfast and was waiting for them. After putting up the couplets, the two husbands went inside to have breakfast with Mrs. Li.
Yesterday, Qingyan told Aunt Li to come over and spend Chinese New Year with his family. Aunt Li didn’t agree to anything; her meaning was that this was the first New Year after the newlyweds got married, and she didn’t want to disturb them.
Later, when they talked about pasting Spring Festival couplets, Qingyan said he had made the paste himself, so Aunt Li shouldn’t bother.
Aunt Li then said she would roll out noodles in the morning and bring them over, so Qingyan and Qiu Henian shouldn’t bother going back to cook.
After breakfast, Qingyan helped clean up the dishes while Qiu Henian swept the courtyard. When they finished, they returned home together.
Qiu Henian’s tall figure walked ahead and entered the outer room first, with Qingyan following behind.
The sun had just risen, making the sunlight particularly dazzling. Qingyan squinted and closed the outer door. As he turned around, he collided with a warm and broad embrace.
He instinctively looked up, feeling his lips heat up as they were gently soothed by a warm, moist tongue. Qingyan opened his mouth, welcoming it…
The sunlight dimmed briefly as clouds covered the sun’s rays. After a while, the clouds drifted away, and the sunlight became bright again.
Qingyan breathed slightly, watching Qiu Henian take a few steps back after looking at him for a while, then turning and entering the house.
Qingyan closed his eyes, recalling the heartbeat he had felt just now and the gaze that had been fixed on him.
A smile played on his lips as he mentally reviewed the strokes of “Qingxin,” which he had practiced until they were familiar, as he had stayed up late writing it last night.
On Chinese New Year’s Eve, Qiu Henian brought out Wang the Blacksmith’s memorial tablet and offered melon seeds, sugar cubes, and pig’s trotters.
Qingyan joined him in offering incense and bowing to the old man.
On Chinese New Year’s Eve night, they prepared a table full of dishes and even brought out a jug of wine.
Qingyan warmed the wine and clinked glasses with Qiu Henian.
Qiu Henian sat across from him at the table, saying, “Qingyan, Happy New Year.”
Qingyan smiled and replied, “Henian, Happy New Year.”
While boiling dumplings, firecrackers outside filled the air with noise.
They also went into the courtyard to set off a few fireworks.
Qingyan looked up at the night sky intermittently lit by fireworks, thinking to himself that this New Year held special significance for him.
It wasn’t just his first Chinese New Year in this world but also the first time in many years that someone celebrated it with him.
Now, he was someone who had a home and family!
Spoiler for the Next Chapter:
The faintly swept brows, a bright red plum blossom mark on the forehead, complemented the bright red lip rouge on the lips.
